Long Way Home
Page 80
“That sucks.”
Eli flicks a wadded-up paper from a straw across the table. “Is what it is, but at least he gets to see her. What’re your plans for today?”
Speaking of things that need to be done, Chevy and I need to go to Louisville today and we need to make sure the journey is Terror-free. “Chevy said something about hanging at his place and catching up on homework.”
“That’s it?” he fishes.
“Being bored sounds good to me.” Actually, being bored sounds amazing, but I promised Chevy I’d go with him to try to find out the truth about James. Makes me a little nervous to head into Louisville, since that’s the Riot’s territory, but he and I need to do this...especially before I wear a wire.
Ugh, now I have nausea with flashes of heat.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Nope. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look pale, plus you’re quiet.”
“Pretty sure I’ve been talking, because when I talk, you talk back.”
“I don’t mean like the hospital quiet and also not a pissed-off quiet. You’re acting like...”
He has my full attention now, and I wait patiently for him to continue, but instead he thanks the waitress for the cup of coffee she hands him and goes to work mixing in cream.
“I’m acting like what?” I prompt.
“You look like you did the first few weeks after your dad died.”
The bottomless pit that formed in my stomach after Dad died opens a little wider. “Oh.”
Eli glances up from his coffee and hits me square in the eye with that patented dark McKinley gaze. “What’s wrong?”
So much, Eli. So much. It would be easier to recount the things going right.
“I promise I’m listening this time,” he says. “I’ve thought about it, and I think some of what you said about me, you might have been right.”
Stunned. This odd, disorienting, foggy feeling is stunned. “Might have been right?”
He smirks. “Don’t press your luck, kid.”
The right side of my mouth edges up, and Eli tips his coffee cup in my direction before drinking. “That right there. That’s what I’ve been dying to see for over a year. Talk to me, Vi. Talk to me like you used to. Talk to me like you used to with your dad.”
“But you’re not my dad.” I breathe through the wave of pain.
“I know, but you’ve got to open up to somebody, why not me?” Eli sets the mug on the table and rubs his thumb up and down the handle. “You’ve become friends with Emily, right?”
I nod. Emily is his daughter and Skull’s granddaughter. She’s also one of the reasons why the Riot hate Eli and the Terror so much. To protect Emily, her mother took her away from Kentucky when she was a toddler. The Riot blame Eli for their daughter and granddaughter leaving, but they fail to understand that Emily’s mother left Eli, too.
Now that Emily is older, she and Eli are making a try at their relationship again.
“I love Emily. I always have. From the moment Emily’s mom told me she was pregnant, I loved Emily. I remember how Emily used to hold her pink elephant in a stranglehold when she was scared by the loud sound of a motorcycle engine and I loved how she would hold on to me after waking from a nap and her skin was hot and sticky from sweat, but she didn’t care. She’d hold on to me as tight as she could until she realized she was awake and not dreaming.”
I smile slightly, wondering if my father had memories like that of me.
Eli frowns then and all the happiness in the room seems to be sucked out with the motion. “But I can’t tell you who she had her first crush on in school. I can’t tell you the first time she went on stage and why. I don’t know what makes her cry and half the time I’m still trying to figure out what makes her laugh. Emily and I, we’re figuring each other out and I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I don’t know Emily and she doesn’t know me, but I do know you.”
My stomach sinks. Eli also has a hole in his soul left unfilled, but... “I’m not your daughter...and I’m not looking to replace my dad.”
“I’m aware of both of those things and I would never insult you with even suggesting that, but what I am saying is that I was there the first time you took the stage. You were eleven and you played the bells in your school’s band concert.”
I snort-laugh because that was my first and last band concert. I totally forgot my parts, so I just rang the crap out of the bells until the song was over. Eli was one of only a few people who gave me a standing ovation. The other people were also part of the Terror.
“I know Chevy wasn’t your first crush, but I know he was your first kiss. I know what makes you cry and I know what makes you laugh and I know I would be the sorriest replacement for your father so that’s not what I’m offering. But what I am telling you is that I know you and you know me and that has to be worth something.”
Worth something? It’s worth a lot. More than silver. More than gold. More than he could comprehend.
“Your dad dying changed us both. Those people we were—they don’t exist anymore, but I want to be here for you and I would do anything for you to rely on me again.”
I rub at my face, my eyes—this is the man who carried me from my hospital room to Chevy’s. The man who took the pictures of me, Dad, Mom and Brandon at my eighth-grade graduation. The man who brought me a rose from my father’s casket and, on bended knee with tears in his eyes, asked for my forgiveness.
Eli flicks a wadded-up paper from a straw across the table. “Is what it is, but at least he gets to see her. What’re your plans for today?”
Speaking of things that need to be done, Chevy and I need to go to Louisville today and we need to make sure the journey is Terror-free. “Chevy said something about hanging at his place and catching up on homework.”
“That’s it?” he fishes.
“Being bored sounds good to me.” Actually, being bored sounds amazing, but I promised Chevy I’d go with him to try to find out the truth about James. Makes me a little nervous to head into Louisville, since that’s the Riot’s territory, but he and I need to do this...especially before I wear a wire.
Ugh, now I have nausea with flashes of heat.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Nope. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look pale, plus you’re quiet.”
“Pretty sure I’ve been talking, because when I talk, you talk back.”
“I don’t mean like the hospital quiet and also not a pissed-off quiet. You’re acting like...”
He has my full attention now, and I wait patiently for him to continue, but instead he thanks the waitress for the cup of coffee she hands him and goes to work mixing in cream.
“I’m acting like what?” I prompt.
“You look like you did the first few weeks after your dad died.”
The bottomless pit that formed in my stomach after Dad died opens a little wider. “Oh.”
Eli glances up from his coffee and hits me square in the eye with that patented dark McKinley gaze. “What’s wrong?”
So much, Eli. So much. It would be easier to recount the things going right.
“I promise I’m listening this time,” he says. “I’ve thought about it, and I think some of what you said about me, you might have been right.”
Stunned. This odd, disorienting, foggy feeling is stunned. “Might have been right?”
He smirks. “Don’t press your luck, kid.”
The right side of my mouth edges up, and Eli tips his coffee cup in my direction before drinking. “That right there. That’s what I’ve been dying to see for over a year. Talk to me, Vi. Talk to me like you used to. Talk to me like you used to with your dad.”
“But you’re not my dad.” I breathe through the wave of pain.
“I know, but you’ve got to open up to somebody, why not me?” Eli sets the mug on the table and rubs his thumb up and down the handle. “You’ve become friends with Emily, right?”
I nod. Emily is his daughter and Skull’s granddaughter. She’s also one of the reasons why the Riot hate Eli and the Terror so much. To protect Emily, her mother took her away from Kentucky when she was a toddler. The Riot blame Eli for their daughter and granddaughter leaving, but they fail to understand that Emily’s mother left Eli, too.
Now that Emily is older, she and Eli are making a try at their relationship again.
“I love Emily. I always have. From the moment Emily’s mom told me she was pregnant, I loved Emily. I remember how Emily used to hold her pink elephant in a stranglehold when she was scared by the loud sound of a motorcycle engine and I loved how she would hold on to me after waking from a nap and her skin was hot and sticky from sweat, but she didn’t care. She’d hold on to me as tight as she could until she realized she was awake and not dreaming.”
I smile slightly, wondering if my father had memories like that of me.
Eli frowns then and all the happiness in the room seems to be sucked out with the motion. “But I can’t tell you who she had her first crush on in school. I can’t tell you the first time she went on stage and why. I don’t know what makes her cry and half the time I’m still trying to figure out what makes her laugh. Emily and I, we’re figuring each other out and I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I don’t know Emily and she doesn’t know me, but I do know you.”
My stomach sinks. Eli also has a hole in his soul left unfilled, but... “I’m not your daughter...and I’m not looking to replace my dad.”
“I’m aware of both of those things and I would never insult you with even suggesting that, but what I am saying is that I was there the first time you took the stage. You were eleven and you played the bells in your school’s band concert.”
I snort-laugh because that was my first and last band concert. I totally forgot my parts, so I just rang the crap out of the bells until the song was over. Eli was one of only a few people who gave me a standing ovation. The other people were also part of the Terror.
“I know Chevy wasn’t your first crush, but I know he was your first kiss. I know what makes you cry and I know what makes you laugh and I know I would be the sorriest replacement for your father so that’s not what I’m offering. But what I am telling you is that I know you and you know me and that has to be worth something.”
Worth something? It’s worth a lot. More than silver. More than gold. More than he could comprehend.
“Your dad dying changed us both. Those people we were—they don’t exist anymore, but I want to be here for you and I would do anything for you to rely on me again.”
I rub at my face, my eyes—this is the man who carried me from my hospital room to Chevy’s. The man who took the pictures of me, Dad, Mom and Brandon at my eighth-grade graduation. The man who brought me a rose from my father’s casket and, on bended knee with tears in his eyes, asked for my forgiveness.
